Inheritance and Ancestry
by Emperor Small Fry
Summary: When she turns 18 an orpahn girl recives her inheritance, and old run down building in London. She soon comes to find that this building that has been in her family for years has a very dark past. Theres no place like London!
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing except the made up characters! Don't worry all will be explained in the next few chapters, this is just a set up.**

That summer after my eighteenth birthday was when I found my self on the cobblestone road of Fleet Street London, England. My parents had died when I was very young; I went to live with my grandfather after their death. My grandmother had died of cancer long before I was born and my grandfather never remarried. I had joined a study abroad program in collage and was sent to London.

While I was away in England, my grandfather had a heart attack and died. My family had once lived in London, and had an old building still in our name. I had inherited this very building after grandpa's death. I knew nothing of it; no one had ever mentioned it to me before. My long time boyfriend Thomas flew out to London when he heard what had happened, he was going to come with me to check out my new inheritance.

I had one of the locals scribble a map for me to Fleet Street, where my families building was located. Fleet Street was a small narrow road that was still preserved old time London. I checked the address on the paper I had. We ended up in front of a very old and poorly kept building. It was a two story brick building with two large store type windows on the bottom floor and upstairs was mostly roof tiling with a large odd shaped window right in the middle over looking the road down below.

"You sure this is it?" Thomas asked with the same disbelief I had.

"According to my Grandfather it is." I said waving the paper with the address on it.

"Mrs. Something or other's pie emporium." Thomas said reading the faded wooden sign over the buildings entrance.

"So it was a pie shop. Wonder what the upstairs is?" I said mostly thinking out loud.

"Only one way to find out." Thomas took the old rusted key out of his pocket and unlooked the door.

Inside there was a long counter in front of a stove a several ledges that I assumed were to place fresh cooked pies. The baking counter was covered in different utensils used for baking and dust……lots of dust. I walked over to one of the shops windows and pushed back the raggedy dirty curtains to look outside. The windows were covered in dust, dirt, and grim; too thick to see out of. Removing all the dust would be task number one.

"Joanna, I missed a call from my mom. I'm going to go call her back; god knows what'll happen if I don't." he said walking towards the shops entrance.

"Ok, tell her I said hi." And he was outside, leaving me alone with the dust. This place needed some light; it was giving me the creeps. In attempt to calm my self I started singing an old song my grandfather used to sing.

"No, there's no place like London….."

I heard a bang from behind me and I quickly turned to see a woman behind the counter picking up some of the dusty utensils. She was wearing an old style dark dress, and her frizzy hair hanging all around her shoulders. Her skin was awfully pale and had dark rings around her eyes. She looked dead.

"Um. Excuse me." I said timidly, a little freaked about the strange woman who appeared out of nowhere. She looked up at me immediately and smiled.

"Ello there dear. You 'ere fer a pie?" she said with accent.

"I don't mean to be rude but what are you doing here?"

"Tis me shop. Though these 'ave ta be the worst pies in London, but pity a woman alone." I was about to ask her more questions and explain how I now own the shop when I hear Thomas come back in, and I turned my back to the woman.

"Alright, you want to check up stairs now?" he asked. I turned back to the baking counter and the woman was gone.

"Yes please." I said trying hard not to sound scared out of my mind. Maybe I just imagined the woman.


	2. Chapter 2

On the side of the little shop was a small courtyard of sorts. There were several picnic benches set up for outdoor eating. They were covered with graffiti from the local teenagers and lots of cobwebs. Their wood was rotted and I bet if you touched one it would become dust in the wind. The whole area was boxed in by a rusty falling apart iron fence with several broken posts.

Attached to the side of the building there was a wooden staircase attached to the wall. The stairs were in the same condition as the picnic benches. It was a giant accident waiting to happen.

"Tommy, I really don't fell comfortable walking up that. It's probably like a hundred years old at least."

"Yeah, I don't either. I think I saw a way to get up there from the inside."

"Good. Thanks for the inheritance grandpa."

We went back inside and to the right of the kitchen was a narrow hallway. It lead to the back of the building and opened up to what I guessed was a living room of sorts. It had a small fire place, a frumpy armchair and side table, and a dresser like tall cabinet. The fire place had a wooden mantle over it that had several oval shaped picture frames on it. They were covered in dust like everything else making it hard to see what the pictures were of.

To the left of the fireplace was a nook that hid the stairs that curved left, for the upstairs. Thomas led the way upstairs. The room was large but was quite empty. Right in the middle of the creaky wood floor was a chair. This chair was smaller than the one down stairs and had a metal foot rest attached at the bottom. I had seen one like once in a photo at a history museum in town, it was used one 14th century barber chairs.

"I think this was used as a barber shop." I said a loud.

"I think you're right." Thomas said holding up a wooden box. He was standing in front of a dark wood bureau with an extremely dirty mirror over it.

"What's in the box?"

"Shaving knives." he said taking one out of the box and flicking it open.

"Pie shop and a barber shop what an odd combination. This whole place needs to be cleaned badly. I have some window cleaner in my car so I guess we can do that much now at least. We can start up here and work our way down."

"Sounds like a plan. I stay up here and see what else I can find."

I made my way down the stairs and through the backroom and into the kitchen. It was then I noticed the open door next to the oven. I crept closer and looked in. A set of stone stairs led down to what I guessed was the basement. The woman I saw earlier made her way into the big metal door at the bottom of the stairs.

Now I know I didn't just imagine her earlier. I could handle one creepy woman! I made my way down the steps as quietly as I could; in attempts to sneak up on her. Through the door at the bottom was what looked like a bake house. The room was huge and cold and had a lingering foul odor of rotten food, a sewer, and death combined. A large furnace shaped oven was sitting in the middle of the room and a giant meat grinder lay against the wall next to me.

I held my nose and walked out into the stone floor room and looked around. The woman was no where to be found. There wasn't much place to hide with the room being so open. As I walked towards the back of the room I discovered that there was a large archway built into the wall that gave access to London's old sewer system.

The sound of creaking metal turned my attention to the front of the room. Something large and heavy fell from the ceiling next to the meat grinder through some kind of trap door. I crept closer and immediately recognized what fell.

"Thomas!"


	3. Chapter 3

**This is in Thomas's pov of what happened to him. Sorry it pretty short!**

Once Annie left I placed the knives back onto bureau and picked up a picture frame sitting in front of me. It was an early photo of a younger looking woman holding a small baby. It was hard to see them through the dark spots of dried gunk stuck to the glass. I noticed that next to the bureau was a stand that had a tea pot sitting on it. The pot had seen better days; it too was covered in dark gunk and dented on one side.

I spotted a wooden chest agianst the wall next to the door leading to the outside.

"Can I help you son?" I heard an male voice ask as I was walking over to the chest. I hadn't even heard anyone else come in.

I turned to find an very out of place looking man standing next to the chair. He was about my height and didn't look that much older than me. His clothes was what made him so strange. I mean no one wears waist coats and those puffy white shirts you see movie pirates wear anymore. His hair made him look like he just walked out of a Frankenstein movie, black with a strip of white running through one side.

"Um...My...my girlfriend's grandfather left this place to her when he died. We're just checking it out. She's down staires." I explained. The guys face was emotionless.

" must have of found her by now. Since you're here...how's about a shave." he siad geustering to the chair with a smile on his face that I didn't like.

"I'm sorry maybe you didn't hear me right. I just said that this place belongs to my girl friend Joanna." There was a sudden change in his face at her name. It was one of reginition and almost saddness. He walked over to the bureau and stared into the mirror almost as if he could see through the grime and dust.

"This one's free of charge, while Joa...you're lady friend gives some buisness." He said quickly moving over to me and grabbing onto me. His skin was so cold. His grip prvented me from pulling away as he trow me down into the cair without effort.

I stared at him in fear ans saw one of the knives in his hand. He flicked it open and held it up. He stared at it as if he were examing it.

"These are my friends, my faithful friends." He whisped then turned his attention to me.

He grabbed stood behind the chair and grabbed my nek just under my chin and shoved my head back. He reached his arm around and placed the knife at my throat. I felt my heart beat rapidly agianst the cold metal blade.

"Don't forget my face boy because it's the last you'll ever see." Then i felt the knife dig into my skin. The dullness of the blade made the psycho barber press harder. I opened my mouth to scream out of pain but blood filled my throat and all I made was pathetic garggling sound. The last thing I remembered was feeling like I was falling.


End file.
